Moving his hand up and twisting his shoulder around to grab the projectile, Norbert felt pain shoot up his hand. Without thinking, Norbert dismissed the pain, looking about himself to see if there were any other traps or things about to be launched at him or Obsius on his shoulder.
The forest quieted once more. Norbert looked at his wound, his blood with a slight purple hew bleeding out. The projectile was a sharpened metal spike sticking out of his hand. Pulling it out, his hand instantly healed up. He looked at the hole in his glove, annoyed that he would need to pick up another pair sometime soon.
Dropping the metal spike on the ground, Norbert looked at the blood coating it. He kicked it into the dirt to clean most of it off, not knowing if there was blood magic, but being attacked or controlled by nobody he could rely on and unknown entities around wasn’t the best time to find out.
Turning to Obsius on his shoulder, the bird looked about, not disturbed at all, without even a feather out of place or puffed up from the panic. Norbert looked forward as he continued walking, now paying attention to each step, careful not to overshoot, with the energy running through his body, wanting him to make fast and big movements.
The plants licking at his clothes made it hard to feel if something was out of place. The careful movements were the only way he hadn’t accidentally triggered something else. Seeing other lines taunt, ready for someone to step across or glints of metal shining as a ray of light shone on it, only for it to move out of the way and Norbert just staring at a metal object, half covered by ferns.
“I wondered how long it will take until something happens?” Norbert asked Obsius, getting fed up with the time it took to happen.
The traps in the place were intended for someone other than him. Their designs are ambiguous and not deadly to him.
Standing still, he looked around as he waited for something to jump out, a sound of a cry to dance through the forest or just anything. Moving his head around, trying to see what it was about, Norbert did not pick up anything in return.
He shrugged his shoulders. He looked about as he continued, his foot going over the stone, and then he stopped, the different sound rooting him to the spot. Looking down at what he found, he lifted his foot as a single squarish stone looked up at him—an engraving on it, one Norbert hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Thanks, Luck, for the indication,” Norbert spoke to the air, wondering if a mote of light would appear before him. He looked about and saw nothing, not caring too much, as he bent over, dusting the piece of stone off with his hand. The rune looked up at him like nothing he had ever seen.
Remembering the leaf he had had used before, an inkling of the purple sap in the trees, like his blood, came to mind. Taking a dagger out, Norbert cut his palm where the hole of his glove was. Pushing a drop of blood out before it was healed, he caught it on the blade before carefully smearing it onto the ground.
Instantly, a purple light came up from it. Norbert needed to close his eyes and look away to be able to see appropriately.
“Hands up!” The voice came around as movement came from all around him.
Forcing his eyes open, trying to look through the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing, Norbert looked around, wondering who these people were and what they would do with him.
“Going after a guy when he’s down?” Norbert asked aloud, slowly spinning around as he finally blinked the tears out, getting a view of the people around him.
Norbert saw them wear clothes draped in greens and browns, the usual camouflage pattern he was used to seeing the army wear. Instead of guns strapped to them, Norbert saw medieval equipment. Staring at their faces, his eyes wanted to skip over them as they had been painted.
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Turning to the bird on his shoulder, he asked, “How long did you know they had been following us?”
Obsius flapped its wing and flew off, leaving Norbert alone in the middle of the forest. The purple light under his foot started to dissipate so he could more easily see around him.
Turning back to the people around him, Norbert asked, “So what now?”
The squad stepped forward, and Norbert saw about twenty people move towards him. “Now, you're coming with us.”
Norbert just nodded, “Do you want me to keep my hands up?” Blood started to fall from his fingertips, which had been up in the air for some time.
“No”, Came the stern reply of the person talking to him, watching the front ones start to move off, following in the direction of the river, taking a significant left as they travelled deeper into the forest.
***
Norbert looked up, seeing Obsius still following after him. Nobody was currently in the trees following him from up there. After apprehending him, none of them talked a bit, no matter what Norbert would try.
Not even his beautiful musical whistling was welcomed, which resulted in a spear appearing on his neck. He wondered what had made these people tense as they continued walking through. The trees opened as Robert could see the river again, hearing it suddenly rush in front of him.
Wondering what could have happened, Norbert now saw what stopped the sound: the runes littering the ground just before him, a barrier in the air that Norbert could easily see, even with his normal vision.
There was a distortion to the air as it seemed to crackle slightly with power. Around it, Norbert saw mages in the same garb as those around him. The mages standing there wand out, nothing Norbert had ever seen before, as they had metal chains dangling off them. Each one was a different colour as they swayed in the wind. Sure that when they touched the right way, a spark of something would appear in the air. The people Norbert assumed to be mages did not care for the sparks from their idle movement as Norbert saw them idly tending to the barrier.
The group bunched up. Norbert now realized their height, realizing only coming up realizing. Having been obscured by obscure forest shrubbery, Norbert thought they had crouched down, balancing out and ready for a fight. Instead, they had been standing at full height.
The mages were talking to each other. Norbert could not hear them, assuming whatever the barrier was trying to protect also stopped the sound from coming out.
The mages waved the group through, and Norbert quickly changed his vision to magic, looking about and confirming his thoughts. The barrier looked like a solid wall in his vision, the pink fog that still surrounded him out there clinging to the people and their clothes, seemingly being sucked in before being pushed out to the sides, making a small bubble where the magic wasn’t affecting them.
Being pushed through to make it past the barrier, Norbert walked inside, and instantly, the sounds of camp assaulted him. Norbert noted a nod as a plan started to form if he needed to, as well as a cape, as the pink mist wasn’t on the inside of the barrier.
One of the mages turned to someone in his group, and a question was asked in a language Norbert didn’t know. There was a moment of annoyance before it popped into knowing.
The necklace around his neck and the translator device are now heavy. Norbert is happy that the Traveller refused to take it, not thinking he would have a use for it now.
“Activated a stone out there,” one of them said. Norbert made all his effort to continue looking around. The fact that he hadn’t been searched was an advantage to him now. He wanted to keep that he didn’t know what they were saying as long as possible in case an advantage could be gleamed using it.
Before Norbert could hear more of the conversation, the others pushed him ahead. Looking down, he gave a slight stink eye before sighing, not seeing a point in purposefully being annoying. He still had the coins on his belt and the weapons strapped to him; they underestimated him for whatever reason.
Seeing several tents up ahead, all of them long and rectangular, looking primarily like awnings placed on sticks, a dry place to set up under the sun, not like it rained here or was too sunny. One tent off to the side that Norbert was being directed towards was circular like a circus tent but much smaller. Norbert imagined it being a commander's tent, a table filled with maps and charts of people arguing about matters that didn’t matter to Norbert as he wasn’t part of the group.
The tent flap opening up as Norbert looked inside, not looking at all as he expected. Instead of a table with maps covered and people organising and strategizing things Norbert found a man in what appeared to be a bedroom, bed on one side, bookshelves on the other and a small table with a tea set, a warm cup already poured as the other was currently being sipped by the man.
Recognition dawning on the man’s face as he looked at Norbert, the deepest baritone of a voice coming out behind the clean and bushy black beard “Hello Norbert from Morenas, what are you doing so far away from the tournament in Libitina?”